His manner is as deferential as always, no, more so. Before we’d occasionally touch, brush against each other the way two people will normally do in...close quarters, just casual and no big deal. Now, though, he’s scrupulous about avoiding any contact at all, moving all the way to one side if we happen to pass each other in a tight space.There’s something else, too, that wasn’t there before, or if it was I didn’t notice. It’s in the way he looks at me, even a little in his voice when he talks to. We don't get company.I was right. It was Mr. Kent. I unlocked the door and opened it for him. He glared at me and said, "Don't lock your door any more. Not until you give me a key."Then he pushed his way in and went over to sit on the couch beside my daughter. He started giving her orders too. And he expected to be obeyed.He handed her a twelve pack of beer and told her to put them in the refrigerator and bring him back one.I was afraid that he was going to touch her, make her do something with. More

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